


M’fhíorghrá / My true love

by Felicja_Julieanne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Established Relationship, Irish Language, Kissing, M/M, and Ireland is a dork, it is there like twice, they're cute and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 05:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17016411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicja_Julieanne/pseuds/Felicja_Julieanne
Summary: "No one said we have to stay til the very end.” he pulls Poland a little closer, and lets himself rest his head against Poland’s hair. No one is looking in their direction anyway. “How about you run away with me, love?”





	M’fhíorghrá / My true love

**Author's Note:**

> For day 7 of the rarepair week. Irepol, because I love these boys and I needed to write something

The party is incredibly boring, Ireland decides after merely two hours. He didn’t exactly expect booze and loud music, this is a formal UN party after all, but he also didn’t think it’d be  _ that  _ dull. Not only is there nothing to do, he also has barely anyone to talk to. Aside the familiar faces of other countries, there’s a sea of politicians, higher-ups, celebrities, and other people Ireland wishes not to interact with. By this point he’s not even sure what’s the party for, whether it’s a charity event or someone’s birthday; he’s only here because he needs to, anyway.

He smiles politely at people, makes small talk when he has to, and is now on his second glass of champagne when he catches a glimpse of a very familiar face in the sea of people surrounding him. As much as he’d love to, he can’t just immediately abandon everything and head there;  it just so happened his brothers forced him into a discussion with them and England’s boss that has been going on for the last twenty minutes or so. He does his best to seem like he’s paying attention, while in reality his eyes are silently following the speck of gold in the crowd.

He’s not sure how long does it take for England’s boss to finally excuse herself to talk to someone else, but when it does happen, he doesn’t even notice. He only does so when he feels a strong pat on the back from Scotland.

“Someone’s mind is off somewhere else,” Scotland comments with a bright smile and wiggling his eyebrows. Ireland rolls his eyes. “You could at least pretend you care.”

“Let him be, he’s in love,” Wales says, and Ireland would be thankful if it weren’t for the fact he knows he shouldn’t be. There’s not one family member that doesn’t tease him about being in a relationship, so Wales should start being a dick just about any second. “We’ll let you go to him if you promise us you’re not about to get yourself caught on your knees in the bathroom, there’s too many important people here.”

And there it is.

“I bet a twenty Poland will be the one that’s on his knees.”

“How about fifty?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Ireland scoffs, feeling his face get red. 

“Go to him,” England says while rolling his eyes at the other two. At least when it comes to him, Ireland is happy to say the teasing isn’t that bad. While the others are happy to openly speculate about Ireland’s sex life (Ireland is sure he’s heard just about every gay sex joke that anyone has ever come up with), England at least has some modesty in that matter. “We’ll cover you if someone asks.”

“Thanks,” Ireland says with a smile, and turns away. He’s quick to leave; he really doesn’t want to deal with any other comments. He should be used to it by now, he and Poland have been seeing each other for the longest time, and yet they always manage to make him feel awkward. 

He makes his way through the crowd, trying his best not to bump into anyone, yet alone someone who might know him and would want to talk. Truth be told, he’s never been fond of large social gatherings. While he’s been told he does exceptionally well in terms of charisma or public speaking, he’d rather avoid having to put those skills into use. Which is exactly why his plan for now is to snatch Poland and hopefully leave the place as soon as possible.

And speaking of Poland, he’s standing exactly where Ireland saw him last, on the outskirts of the crowd (typical for him), with a glass of champagne in hand, and talking to Lithuania. Ireland sets his own, empty glass on the nearest table, and walks up to them before anyone can bother him.

Lithuania is the first to notice him approaching, to which he nudges Poland and points towards Ireland’s direction. When Poland turns and sees him, a smile appears on his face, to which Ireland can’t help but smile himself.

“Seán!” Poland says once Ireland is in earshot. “And here I thought you wouldn’t bother to talk to me tonight.”

“Please, I’ve been trying to find you all evening,  _ a chroí _ ,” he answers, walking to him and slipping a hand on his back. They’re in a very public place, and Ireland knows Poland’s boss is probably within eyesight, so that’s pretty much the most affection they can allow themselves to show. 

He doesn’t miss the way the corners of Poland’s mouth twitch at the nickname; Ireland knows Poland is very fond of Irish terms. “Having fun?”

“Very,” Poland rolls his eyes with a sigh. “We haven’t even been here for that long and I’m already dying to leave. What is it with formal parties that everything is boring and people just come up to talk to you out of nowhere? It’s stressful.”

“Stressful but mandatory,” Lithuania says, eyeing the two of them. “Whether you like it or not, we all have to be here.”

“Well… mandatory is a strong word,” Ireland mumbles, looking at Poland. “You’ve talked with your boss already, right?”

“Yeah, but he ditched me the first occasion he had. Why?” Ireland smiles at him. 

“In that case, he knows you’re here. No one said we have to stay til the very end.” he pulls Poland a little closer, and lets himself rest his head against Poland’s hair. No one is looking in their direction anyway. “How about you run away with me, love?”

“What if someone sees us leave, though?” Poland asks, but by the tone of his voice and a hand rested against Ireland’s chest, Ireland knows he’s already decided. 

“We just need to get some air, that’s it,” Ireland whispers at him, takes Poland’s hand and lightly kisses it, to which Poland giggles with a shy expression. 

“God, you two need a room,” Lithuania sighs. Ireland doesn’t think much of it - everyone tells him he and Poland are a bit too affectionate with each other, he can never be bothered - but he sees Poland look at Lithuania with furrowed brows. 

“Well, we’re leaving,” Ireland says, taking Poland’s champagne glass, and setting it on a tray of a passing waiter. “Right?” he turns to Poland. 

“I guess. You wanna come with?” Poland asks Lithuania, who shakes his head no.

“I’d rather not get in trouble with my boss. And honestly, staying here seems better than having to watch the two of you for the rest of the evening. Have fun.” With that, and a goodbye smile to Poland, Lithuania leaves them to themselves. 

“Wow, he’s got a stick up his ass today,” Poland mumbles.

“Doesn’t he always?”

“No. I mean, yes, but… not like that. He never said anything about me and you before.”

“I’m sure he’s just tired or something.” 

Actually, Ireland has a theory as to why Lithuania is acting the way he is - which is confirmed by a few conversations they’ve had that Poland doesn’t know about (Ireland really doesn’t think Poland should  _ ever  _ know; he and Lithuania are close and Ireland would rather not ruin that) - but honestly, Ireland can’t bring himself to care right that moment.

“Come on, let’s go.” He takes Poland’s hand, and they quickly make their way out of the building. Thankfully, no one bothers them, so it goes smoothly and in no time they’re outside. 

The night air is freezing against his face, and Ireland can see his breath, but Poland’s hand is warm in his, and his presence next to him makes it a little less cold. 

They quickly start walking, giggling as if they’re high school kids who just skipped classes. Once they’re away from the UN building enough that Ireland is sure no one is going to see them, he turns to Poland and leans down to kiss him, to which Poland meets him with a laugh. 

They stand there on the sidewalk, ignoring the cold wind, kissing with smiles on their faces, until eventually someone pulls away. For a moment, there’s silence, and all they do is look into each other’s eyes. 

Ireland remembers the first time he realized he’s in love, on a night just like this. It all started with those green eyes.

“I missed you, love,” Ireland says softly, with his hand up to cup Poland’s cheek. Poland is leaning into his touch, with a gentle smile. The moonlight shines on him softly, and Ireland wishes nothing more than to stop time and stay like this for always.

“It’s been like two weeks, only.”

“Two weeks too long,” he breathes out, stealing another kiss. “Ideally, I’d have you for myself at all times.”

“Well, soon enough you will,” Poland says, smiling to himself. Ireland takes his hand, and kisses his ring finger, just above the ring on it. The ruby stone shines brightly, reflecting the lights of the night. It seems so familiar that Ireland almost can’t believe Poland has  had it only for a few short weeks. “No longer than a year from now… I can’t wait.”

“Me too,” Ireland whispers. “You’ll be all mine, Feliks.”

“I already am,” Poland replies. “I love you.”

“Well, I love you more, _m’fhíorghrá_.”

They kiss once more, reluctant to let go of each other. Poland’s lips feel soft against Ireland’s, and he feels himself smile. He couldn’t be more lucky.

“Let’s talk more somewhere warm, I’m freezing,” Poland finally says, pulling away. “It’s eleven at night in the middle of Autumn and we’re standing on the street.” 

“Where do you wanna go? A bar, or a coffee shop?”

“How about we just go back to the hotel, huh?” Poland ask with a coy smile, once again taking Ireland’s hand. They slowly start walking. “You’ve said the bath has jets, right?”


End file.
